The Aftermath
by KKetura
Summary: Elena decides she needs to see Damon before she heads home for the night. Post 3x18.


**Summary: Elena decides she needs to see Damon before she heads home for the night. Post 3x18. **

**A/N: Just a little something that wouldn't leave me alone, though it didn't turn out how I originally planned. It's been awhile since I wrote anything on here, but I guess nothing gets my muse going faster than a little Damon torture, haha. Anyway, hope you like. Always love to hear what you think! **

**Disclaiming that I still don't own anything TVD related. Still just having some fun. **

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><p>Elena sat on the end of the bed, her foot tapping restlessly on the floor, waiting. She glanced at her watch and then back to the door, the anxiety she'd been holding in check for over an hour starting to seep out around the edges. He wasn't supposed to be gone for this long. How long did it take to go to Ric's, get the stake, and come back?<p>

She fell back on the bed, letting out a long sigh and running through the day in her head yet again. She felt so confused, she could barely stand it. She kept seeing Stefan's knowing look after her screaming silence, feeling the wild panic that had gripped her after she'd heard that Damon had been taken. She didn't even want to start to sort out the tangled mess that were her feelings for the two, because she knew she was heading down a road that she had told herself long ago wasn't even remotely an option.

She made a small, frustrated noise and sat back up, running her hands through her hair and banishing all thought except the one that had led her to this room: needing to know that Damon was okay. That's all she was here for; a quick "yeah, I'm fine" and then she was going home and sleeping and not giving the Savatores another thought for at least twelve hours.

Once again, she glanced at her watch and immediately she was right back where she started. How could he possibly be gone for this long?

She got to her feet, driven to the point that she was seriously considering going and finding Stefan, despite the awkward note they had ended the night on. He needed to go look for his brother. Something was wrong. She knew it.

She made it halfway to the door before it slowly swung open. She froze as he slipped into the room, a heavy sigh rushing out of her as relief consumed her. She took a step towards him before getting a good look at him, her small smile immediately slipping off her face. "Damon?" she asked slowly.

He stopped when he heard her, finally meeting her gaze, and a ghost of a shadow passed over his face, like he was remembering something, then it was gone. "Why aren't you home?" he asked as he walked by her, his steps a little slower than usual, his voice a little rougher.

She stared at his back as he walked to the closet, a frown creasing her forehead. The usual swagger that was always present, but that she'd never really been fully aware of, was gone and his movements seemed a little less fluid than she was used to. He shrugged out of his jacket slowly, still not really looking at her.

"How'd it go with Ric?" she asked hesitantly. She just needed to know that he was okay, maybe clear some of the air that had been hanging between them since the Original's ball, and then she would go, she kept telling herself over and over even as her frown deepened as she watched him. She had wanted to talk, but looking at him now, she wasn't sure she could do it. There was just so much that she still needed to work out and he looked… Well, he looked fine, or at least he would have to someone that didn't know him as well as she did. To her, he looked… tired.

"His psycho killer alter ego hid the last stake. So... badly," he said bluntly, hanging his jacket up and turning back to her. "Go get some sleep, Elena. There's nothing you can do tonight."

She looked away, the worry feeling like it was crushing her chest. How did things never go their way? she practically screamed inside her head. Just once, she wanted one of their plans to actually work. Just once. She shook her head and took a deep breath, pulling herself together yet again. She looked back at Damon to find him thoroughly engrossed in the floorboards, a slight slump to his shoulders that she didn't think she'd ever seen before. "How about you?" she asked softly, taking a few steps closer.

He looked up at her, his brow slightly furrowed before his blank, tired mask slipped back over his features. "Vampire, remember?" he replied with what she assumed was an attempt at his usual humor that failed miserably. He shrugged at her expression and moved towards the bed.

"Damon," she said gently, moving in front of him causing him to stop short or run into her. "That's not what I meant."

He let out a small breath, close enough that it sent a strand of hair brushing across her cheek. "I know," he said almost as gently, reaching up and tucking the stay hair behind her ear. "Go home, Elena. I'm fine."

And there they were. The magical words that she had wanted so desperately to hear that would release her back to her empty, silent house. That was what she had wanted to hear— that he was fine. So why did they make her feel even more broken and confused than before?

An overwhelming sense of loss and loneliness rolled over her, and she felt like she could barely breath, that if she moved even one inch from this spot she would lose something that until this moment she hadn't even fully realized she'd had. She looked up into his face—a broken mess of emotions that he couldn't quite hide from her—and she felt her heart clench. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

She saw the pain grow in his eyes and then it was hidden by those long, dark lashes as he looked away. "I know," he said again, letting his hand fall as he took a step back.

Desperation gripped her, and she stepped forward with him, her hand coming up of its own accord and resting on his cheek, the tips of her fingers brushing his neck, his hair, demanding he look at her. "No, Damon, I mean it. I'm sorry... for everything."

His expression opened slightly, a vulnerability coming over his face that she had only seen once before when he had come to beg her forgiveness after the sacrifice. His own hand came up, engulfing hers as he gripped it and pulled it down to his chest, over his heart, moving them even closer. She could feel the faint heat of his body next to hers, and her traitorous heart sped up as her trembling breath caught in her throat.

He gazed at her with those impossibly blue eyes for several long moments, almost like he was searching for something. She felt exposed, like he was sifting through all the mess on the surface to her very core, and unsure she could face what he found, she looked away.

He let out a breath, like he'd found his answer. "It's okay, Elena," he said, his tone dripping with self-contempt. "You don't have anything to apologize for." She felt him shift slightly and then cool lips pressed against her forehead.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes and the ache that ripped through her chest as she leaned into his touch. He started to pull away, but she slipped her arms around him, crushing her to him, not letting him go.

She buried her face in his chest, letting his shirt soak up her tears as she just breathed him in, allowing herself to relax into him, if just for a moment. "I'm glad you're all right, Damon," she said. "You don't know how much you mean to me, and that's my fault... So, yeah, I'm sorry. You have to let me apologize for that, at least." Her arms tightened. "Please."

His chest heaved, and she thought she heard a sigh of defeat as his own arms wrapped around her for the first time she could remember. His head fell to the crook of her neck, nestling in her hair, and he drew in a long, almost contented, breath. "Okay."

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><p><strong>I was not going for a hug at the end of this, but that's where they ended up. Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think! And thanks to all of you!<strong>


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